Ink
by Wonton Destruction
Summary: What would be the first thing you'd do after surviving a personal attack by Jolly Roger? Well, if you're Solomon Ironskull, you'd get a tattoo from the tattoo mistress of Padres del Fuego and maybe try to steal her heart while you're at it.
1. Chapter 1

"Ahahaha! This will be the pirates' funeral fire!"

How had things gone so wrong? We had had ample warning of Jolly Roger's invasion of Padres del Fuego, plenty of time to establish defenses and gather our forces. So many had come, mostly young and inexperienced pirates, but I had thought their numbers would make up for our lack of veteran warriors. For a while, it seemed I was right. The first waves of the Undead were pushed back with relatively few losses on our side, and even those infernal Powder Keg Runners had been pushed back. Victory looked close at hand… And then he came.

Though I had positioned myself near the wall of Padres, as did many of the more experienced pirates, I could tell that Jolly Roger had come ashore. Thunderbolts rained down from the sky over where the barricades had been set, and gusts of dark wind blew over the island, carrying with them the smell of decay. As Jolly entered my line sight I managed a look behind him. The ground was littered with the bodies of fallen pirates, all crying out for help before slipping into unconsciousness. This was Jolly's goal: To make us suffer. He had the power to kill, everyone from Tortuga to Cuba knew that, and if the whispers of what had occurred at Raven's Cove were anywhere close to true he obviously didn't have a problem using that power. Yet all he would do was wave his hand, or twitch a finger, and scores of young men and women would wither like straw before a flame. Every movement was a reminder of how powerless we were. For a brief moment my fear left me, and I realized that comrades had yet to move from their spots. Even they, the most experienced of us, were frozen with fear.

I wasn't a fool. It was painfully clear that defeat was upon us, but something in me refused to let it end that way. If I had to lose, I would make that unholy creature kill me, if only to make him put forth the effort. Just as he was about to finish off another of us, this time a mere slip of a girl, I acted. Chop, roundhouse, spin cut, dodge, roll, reverse spin, jumping slash. Well, now I had his attention. Bollocks. At least the girl had gotten away.

"I really don't have time for this... but if you insist!" He turned to face me, his eternal smile radiating annoyance, and maybe just a hint of amusement. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end and I instinctively leapt to the side, a bolt of his cursed lightning scorching the ground where I had just stood. Lashing out with a Blade Storm, the tip of my sword scratched the bone of where his cheek would have been before his skeletal hand grabbed hold of my sword. "You won't live to regret that, you cur!" Black chains burst from the ground, coiling around my arms, legs, and neck, dragging me down to my knees. My plan seemed to be working splendidly. The most feared man in the Caribbean had me on my knees, powerless to defend myself. The blade of that infernal contraption that replaced his right hand was leveled at the center of my chest. With sadistic glee he eased the blade forward, stopping just short of a killing blow. The pain was indescribable, but I couldn't give him the satisfaction of screaming. "Any last words, boy?" I looked up into those empty sockets and spat a mouthful of the blood that had welled up in my throat into his face. The only thing I remember after that was a loud 'bang,' blinding white pain, and then, darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

"I think he's coming to…"

It was the first bit of sound I'd heard since that 'bang.' That's right. I had died, if I recalled correctly. Hm. I was strangely aware of things, for a dead man. I could hear voices, male and female, all strangely familiar, but unrecognizable. My eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the dim light. A woman, haggard-looking with dark brown skin and coiled, unwashed hair stared down at me, a tired smile on her lips. "R- Romany?" I choked out, my voice scratchy and weak from lack of use. She nodded and gestured around the room. I followed her motion as best I could. All of the gypsies of Padres del Fuego were there, Valentina, Pelagia, even Heartless Rosaline. They all looked exhausted, as if they had not had a nights rest in days. A spot of red caught my eye; A Navy Officer. My muscles tensed up, a reaction I regretted as a sharp pain shot through my chest. Romany Bev eased me back down onto my cot.

"Easy now, child, you must rest. You have endured a great trial, a trial which almost cost you your life. You have strayed to the edge of death, and we have pulled you back. Rest, and take heart." Rosaline brought me a cup of grog, which I drank greedily. How could this be? Jolly had killed me, or so I thought, and he had been so close to victory. We should have been dead, the lot of us. The officer stepped forward, clearing his throat.

"You seem confused, Mister Ironskull. I am Captain Geoffrey Abbott, commanding officer of Fort Dundee. When Jolly Roger invaded the island of Padres del Fuego, he did indeed strike you down, and did in fact nearly kill you. Upon witnessing your apparent death, your fellow… comrades were compelled to fight back. A scout informed me of the situation and I sent reinforcement troops to the battle. Together, we were able to drive back Jolly Roger." While that did explain how the rest of them were alive it still didn't why I was. At my confused look he elaborated. "While tending to the wounded, Miss Romany Bev discovered you were still alive. Feeling generous, I allowed her and the other healers to bring you here, to Fort Dundee. You have been here for well over a month. I would appreciate it if you kept my role in things quiet. It wouldn't do for my superiors to think that I am going soft on pirates." He turned on his heal and strode out of the room. Everyone seemed more comfortable once he was gone, proving the Navy made everyone uncomfortable, not just pirates.

Bev gave me a potion to ease my pain, telling me to sleep. Tomorrow they planned on moving me to an inn in Los Padres, the Skull's Thunder. It was closer to their camps, and it would take some of the pressure off of Captain Abbott. Regardless of whatever it was that I did, I was still a pirate. I closed my eyes, my attendants shuffling out of my room, putting out the candles as they went. I drifted into fevered dreams. Scenes of fire and smoke twisted and churned around me to the tune of mad flutes and pipes. A skeletal hand grasped my throat and raised me into the air. The seas boiled and the mountains were carried off by the wind.

I awoke with a gasping breath, sitting bolt upright, with my hand clutching my chest. My wound burned and tears sprang to my eyes. Fumbling in the dark I drained what was left of Bev's potion. It helped a bit. There was a knock on the door, and Rosaline stepped in holding a candle.

"We're moving you now. The sun isn't up; it'll be easier, cause less of a commotion." Two soldiers put my arms over their shoulders and helped me outside where I was eased into a wagon. The short trip was slow as to avoid any jostling that could re-open my wounds. When we arrived I was greeted by the tavern's bartender, Rico, I think his name was. He helped me inside and up to my room. It was sparsely furnished, with only a bed, a chest, and a table, not that I needed much more. Food would be brought to me in a few hours, at which time I could see about getting some things from my ship. After all, I had been wearing the same clothes for over a month. Before leaving, he turned to me and smiled. "You did a great thing, amigo; Very foolish, but great. Now rest up, I have a feeling you'll be getting some visitors tomorrow." The door shut with a quiet 'click' and once again I was alone. I leaned back onto my bed, taking a swig of one of the potions that Bev had left for me. It seemed like I would be spending the foreseeable future on Padres del Fuego. How bad could it be?


	3. Chapter 3

Waking up wasn't nearly as bad as it had been yesterday. That potion of Bev's really did keep the nightmares at bay. After a lengthy trial and error process I made it out of bed and to a window. They town looked no worse for the wear. Any signs of the battle had been cleaned up and it appeared to be a rather busy day in Padres. Well, as busy as that island got, anyway. There wasn't much on Padres besides Fort Dundee and the EITC silver mine. Crops were difficult to grow, and the heat from the volcano made the water too warm for most fish to survive. The only saving grace the island had been the pirates. True, few ever strayed this far south, but the ones that did plundered the powerful war ships. The shops served as fences for the stolen goods, and the pirates then spent their money in the shops. It was nice little system.

"Hey amigo, I got something for you!" Rico's call shook me from my revelry. He brought in a chest that I recognized from my ship. "I figured you could use a change of clothes. I don't need you stinking up my tavern," he said with a grin. I thanked him profusely. My whole life was in that trunk. "If you get dressed you can go take a little walk around town. Bev and Rosaline said it would be fine. Just try not to hurt yourself." I nodded and set about picking out some clothes to wear. My black checker coat, a pair of black breeches, and a broken-in pair of boots. Comfort was my main concern.

It was warm outside, but there was a cool breeze coming in off the sea. I'd always liked Padres del Fuego. Sure there was a heavy presence from the Navy, the EITC and even dear old Jolly Roger, all of which wanted people like me dead to varying degrees, but it was isolated, fairly quiet, and the people were tough as oxen. As I walked through the town, I saw a woman waving me down. She was short and thin, (petite I think was the word I heard a French sailor use when describing a woman of similar stature) with dark skin, her black hair tied back in braids. She introduced herself as Perla Alodia, the owner of the Padres jewelry shop. She asked me to follow her inside, that she had something for me. I took a seat by her counter while she rummaged around for something. Finally she stepped out from behind her display case, a small black box in her hands. I opened it and marveled at the craftsmanship of what she had given me; it was an earring, gold with two stones, a ruby and an amethyst. Certainly not the kind of thing one gave away. We pirates used earrings and the like as a kind of emergency fund. Should we die at sea and our bodies wash ashore where none of our friends or family are, the earing would serve as payment for whatever soul was decent enough to give us a proper burial. Otherwise it was just another thing for someone to steal from our corpses. "Why," I asked, my voice still hoarse. She smiled at me.

"Because you saved us all. Roger would have burned this whole town to the ground. If he was feeling pleasant he would have had us all killed. Otherwise we would have ended up in his undead army. You prevented all that. You're a brave man, Solomon." I assumed she knew my name from the gypsies, or maybe a loose-lipped sailor. She took the box from me and bent over me. "Easy now, I'm just doing the honors." Her hands moved so delicately I could scarcely tell she was removing my old earing and putting in the new. She smelled like the exotic spices I plundered merchant vessels from the East. I gulped, trying to prevent my natural reaction. She was very pretty, after all. Her fingers brushed past the lobe of my ear as she finished. "Now for your second reward, Mr. Hero," she muttered softly. Supple as a panther she slid into my lap and cupped my face with those small, gentle hands. With my wounds I would have protested, but to my surprise she weighed practically nothing. She dipped her head down and pressed her thin lips to mine. My arm wrapped around her thin waist, my free hand moving up to rest on the back of her head. I was acting on pure instinct, as if I was a ship that was driving itself. Suddenly she pulled back, slipping off my lap before straightening her clothes. I must have looked confused. "That was far more valuable than that earring. You're the only man on this island that I have ever given such a reward to. Keep up the heroics and there may be more to come." She winked and gave me another, more chaste kiss before moving to go back to her duties. "Off with you now, I do have a business to run." I rose to my feet, still unable to find my voice, and moved out of the shop, stealing one last glance at her bottom before shutting the door. Yet another thing I liked about Padres: the women.

Almost as soon as the door was shut behind me, a large man put his hand on my shoulder. "You are Solomon Ironskull, yes?" He had a thick accent, Swedish, or something similar. I nodded. "Good. You will come with me." Couldn't really argue, and I wasn't exactly in the shape to physically resist, so I followed him. He led me to a blacksmith's shop owned by a man named Ferrera. I found out the large Swede was named Sven. "You did a good thing, and it cost you a fine blade." That's right, I never did get my sword back. Now that was a crying shame. It was Royal broadsword that I'd had enchanted by a gypsy to heal me. I'd taken it from a Dragoon on Kingshead. "We cannot replace such a blade, but we have something for you until you can find a more suitable weapon." Fresh off the anvil he handed me a fine steel broadsword. It was sharp and heavy, but balanced as a good sword should be. I thanked them both, but asked if they could drop it off at the tavern. I wasn't feeling up to lugging around a heavy sword for the rest of the day. They agreed, and I set off once again. After a bit more wandering, maybe an hour or so, I considered heading back to the Skull when a sign caught my eye. Mercedes Corazon Tattoo Parlor eh? I had a bit of ink on my left wrist, a design I picked up from a trader from Tahiti that he said would ward off evil spirits. Adding more had never occurred to me before, but for some strange reason I felt compelled to go into that shop.

It was very clean inside, an excellent thing considering the type of work going on. "Ah, welcome. I am Mercedes Corazon. How may I assist you today," a lilting feminine voice called out. Why didn't I ever come in here before? Mercedes was vision of loveliness on an otherwise barren rock. She was tall and lithe, with all of her womanly curves prominently displayed. She wore her jet black hair straight down, her face soft with a thin nose and full lips. I was left speechless for a moment. "Sir?"

"I-I'm sorry miss, I was lost in thought. I was considering having another tattoo done. I was hoping you could help me find a design.."

She smiled. "Of course, sir. Is there a special reason for the tattoo?"

"… To commemorate an important event. I was thinking of having it done on my chest, but I'd have to check and see how my injury is progressing. Could I trouble you for a knife?" I caught the offered blade with practiced ease, cutting through the linen bandages that encircled my torso. She had a mirror on the wall that I used to get good look at my chest. What I saw was surprising, to say the least. There were obvious scars where I had been stabbed and shot, but what was curious was that more scars branched out from where I had been shot. It almost looked like one of the old trees back on the Continent.

"Oh my word… Are you quite sure that you wish to have it done there? Perhaps on your back, or maybe…"

"No. No I think this is exactly where I'd like it. In fact, if there's some way we could work in the scar that would be ideal."

We spent the rest of the afternoon discussing possible designs, colors, and any possible risks. I bid my fair hostess a good evening, promising to return tomorrow to start. On the way back to the tavern I passed the jewelry shop. Perla blew me kiss as she swept up the storefront, a gesture I responded to with a saucy wink. Time enough to deal with that later. Grabbing a bowl of stew and hunk of bread from Rico I headed back to my room. A lot had happened today, all of it good, a rare thing in the life of a pirate. Perhaps my stay on Padres wouldn't be so bad. If nothing else, I had beautiful women to look at.

A/N: Read and review. Perla and Mercedes never really came off as having any strong character traits so I filled in the blanks, and made Perla a flirt, and Mercedes will be a bit more reserved. Also, that earring thing, historically accurate. Learn something new every day.


End file.
